


Steal My Heart

by TB_Anon_meme



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 15:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20066167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TB_Anon_meme/pseuds/TB_Anon_meme
Summary: Prompt: I wanna see Kotetsu and Barnaby as criminals. But not the uber-dark, edgy Ouro-versions that lurk all over the fandom.Can I see them as two idiotic small time thieves/thugs/whatever who are head over heels for each other? Rob a bank, buy Bunny a pony with the cash? Pick a wallet, Kotetsu gets a brand new black tie just like all his other ties but Barnaby bought it with his own hard-earned-through-pickpocketing cash?Author: Anon





	Steal My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> /N: Not sure if this took the tone that OP expected (they’re pretty big-time thieves rather than small-time thieves) but I finally managed to make it cute and funny enough to post. Please enjoy!

Barnaby re-tied the belt of his plush bath robe and crossed to the window. The view from the Gold Stage took his breath away, seeing the splendor of Sternbild spread out before him, but tonight he felt… troubled. A half-formed thought he had been holding on to for months now was finally emerging as a full-fledged idea, and the implications unsettled him a bit. He knew it was somewhat of a faux pas to bring his trivial concerns into the vacation that Kotetsu had so cleverly arranged for the two of them on their first half-anniversary, but at this late hour of the night, with the moon full and bright, he couldn’t help it.

Time passed, and Barnaby heard Kotetsu started to toss and turn. Probably noticing the lack of Barnaby’s presence in the bed. Funny, how quickly they had grown accustomed to sleeping side-by-side. Gradually, Kotetsu woke, rolled out of bed, pulled on the bottoms to a set of silk pajamas, and joined Barnaby at the window.

“Been awake long?” he asked, sliding his arms under Barnaby’s and holding him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.

“Not really,” Barnaby said, and Kotetsu hummed. They stood together for a few minutes, Kotetsu almost falling back asleep on Barnaby’s shoulder, before Barnaby brought up what was on his mind:

“Do you ever get the feeling Hero TV lets us get away?”

“Nuh-uh,” Kotetsu cuddled Barnaby a little closer, breathing in the very expensive shampoo Barnaby had used that evening. It mixed quite well with the lingering scent of their recent activities: making an absolute mess of a king-size bed. But apparently even all that ‘celebrating’ couldn’t stop Barnaby from thinking. “…You think they let us go?”

“How many times have we been on Hero TV?”

“Um…” Kotetsu racked his brains, tallying how many times he and his partner in crime had faced the cameras and caped crusaders. “…Six?”

“Eleven,” Barnaby corrected.

“No fair, Bunny,” Kotetsu mumbled into his partner’s neck. “Asking me for answers you already know…”

“But we’ve escaped all eleven times. There’s always an opening for us.”

“Because we’re awesome.”

“Because the heroes are sloppy,” Barnaby threaded his fingers between Kotetsu’s, returning his embrace from behind. Even with deep thoughts on his mind, he could never resist the comfort of his partner’s affection. “I’ve seen other broadcasts where criminals in similar situations are apprehended. But somehow, we escape.”

“Well, we usually lose the loot when the heroes show up,” Kotetsu mentioned. “Even if they don’t put us away, it’s pretty hard to make a living with them around.”

“But they’re holding back,” Barnaby said. “I can feel it.”

“Would you rather they arrest us once and for all?” Kotetsu asked. “I know I’d miss the high life if we got thrown in jail… But then again…” A flirty tone seeped into Kotetsu’s voice and he mumbled in Barnaby’s ear, “You’d look good in that prison-orange jumpsuit.”

“Stop that,” Barnaby chided, but his reflection in the enormous plate-glass window revealed his smile.

“You would,” Kotetsu insisted. He sang an old tune in a low voice, “You’re the cutest jailbird I ever did see~”

“Kotetsu, cut it out!”

“I sure would be delighted with your company~”

“That tickles, old man!”

“Come on and do the Jailhouse Rock with me~!” Kotetsu rocked back and forth a little, satisfied with his partner’s laughter. Then he pressed a kiss against Barnaby’s cheek, a bit less innocent than a peck. Understanding Kotetsu’s intent, Barnaby turned his head toward Kotetsu until their lips met, the almost-instinctive action of kissing that familiar mouth guiding him. Their arms adjusted to let them stand front-to-front, Kotetsu taking hold of Barnaby’s hips through the plush robe, Barnaby twisting his fingers in Kotetsu’s dark hair.

After another few minutes, the broke long enough for Kotetsu to make his counter-point. “But why would the heroes hold back? We’re worth four hundred points to them.”

“That’s true,” Barnaby settled into Kotetsu’s embrace. “Maybe we’re worth more to Hero TV as fugitives than convicts.”

“Huh? But… huh?”

“Think of it this way. How many other criminals are same-sex lovers whose signatures involve stealing famous treasures, causing lots of flashy but low-injury property damage, and always saving each other just in the nick of time?”

“Um…” Kotetsu couldn’t think of a single other duo like them.

“We have entertainment value that no one else can match. And Hero TV needs a few repeat villains to fill out its cast, don’t you think?”

“It’s too late to think,” Kotetsu complained. “Tell me again in the morning and I’ll understand a lot better.”

“Will you? Really?”

“…Probably not. I just want my cuddle-Bunny back.” Kotetsu pouted at Barnaby. “Please?”

With a sigh, Barnaby kissed Kotetsu one last time. “Fine. The old man needs his sleep.”

“Carry me?”

Only in private would Kotetsu ask to be carried to a bed just a few feet away, so Barnaby obliged, scooping up his partner and closing the very short distance between the window and the bed. He lay Kotetsu down on the sheets, then on a whim, climbed up on the bed and straddled Kotetsu’s hips. Kotetsu raised his eyebrows, then reached out and untied the belt-knot holding the robe closed.

“Happy half-anniversary, Bunny,” Kotetsu smiled.

Barnaby couldn’t help but smile back. “Happy half-anniversary, Kotetsu.”

But before the dastardly duo could do anything else, a forgotten tablet started pinging. The two stared at each other for a minute, trying to place the sound, when Barnaby remembered what the signal meant. He leapt off he bed, nearly kneeing Kotetsu somewhere sensitive, dug up the tablet from a bag of rappelling equipment, and turned it on.

“They’re back!” he cried.

“What?” Kotetsu sat up.

“The tenants, they’re back! They’re in the elevator!”

“No way!” Kotetsu all but fell onto the floor as he struggled to join Barnaby at the monitor. The hacked security camera showed a man and a woman in their mid-forties—the true owners of the swanky apartment in which Kotetsu and Barnaby had lived for the last few days—patiently but tiredly waiting as a bellhop maneuvered their luggage into the small space.

“You said their flight came in tomorrow!”

“It does—It—It did, it was supposed to, anyway—aw, shit!” Kotetsu and Barnaby’s eyes met for a second as they remembered everything they had done in the ‘stolen’ Gold Stage penthouse: billed delivery meals to the apartment, drank from the wine cabinet, watched on-demand movies with the residents’ cable subscription, washed with their designer soaps, fucked each other in their bed.

And they had sixty seconds to fix everything.

Some things, they frankly had no intention of fixing. That defeated the purpose of being thieves. But for the sake of common courtesy, they had wanted to leave the place looking at least as nice as when they had found it, less a few bottles of wine and jewelry boxes. But they had left food in the kitchen, equipment in the living room, clothes in the bedroom, and a very sticky mess on the very expensive sheets.

The two immediately sprang into action: Barnaby gathered up what he could find of his clothes—shirt? Pants? Glasses first! Okay, underwear, jacket, sock? Where’s the other sock?!—while Kotetsu bolted out to retrieve their equipment and maybe rub out any other traces of their presence here. It wouldn’t be perfect, it wouldn’t even be anywhere near passable, but they had to at least make the attempt.

Once Barnaby had his clothes on (boots still untied) and Kotetsu’s clothes thrown in a rough pile, he turned his attention to the sheets. The biggest and most humiliating sign that the room had been occupied during the owners’ vacation. He had planned on washing them in the morning—but he couldn’t just leave them here to be found, either!

With no other choice, Barnaby stripped the bed, tearing off two layers of sheets, the pillowcases, and the fitted sheet on the mattress. He balled them up in a giant wad, so large he could barely hold it in his arms.

Where is Kotetsu?!

Almost on cue, Kotetsu returned to the bedroom, their two light packs of personal belongings hanging from his elbows while he struggled to hold three bottles of wine.

“You’re stealing the wine?” Barnaby snapped.

“This is good stuff! So long as we opened it, we should take it!” Kotetsu reasoned.

“It’s too fragile, and cumbersome!”

“Cumbersome? You’re stealing the sheets!”

“I’m not stealing them, I’m taking them!”

“What’s the difference?!”

“Stealing is when you want to possess the item! Taking is when you remove the item without permission!”

“Then what the hell are you ‘taking’ the sheets for?!” Kotetsu shouted in exasperation.

“They’re dirty! We can’t leave dirty bedsheets!”

“We’ve already stolen tons from them! They won’t care about the sheets!”

“Of all the things we’ve done, I think they’re going to care most about the way we fucked on their sheets!”

The monitor pinged again: four loud, insistent beeps. Fifteen seconds until the elevator arrived. Dropping the sheets, Barnaby yanked Kotetsu’s load out of his arms, bags and wine and all, and ordered, “Put your clothes on!”

While Kotetsu fumbled with his clothes, Barnaby wrapped the wine bottles in the topsheets and stuffed them in his pack, while he tossed the remaining sheets into a more compact bundle. The monitor beeped again with three high-pitched tones: Five seconds remaining. Barnaby had his pack settled on his back, while Kotetsu’s hung from his arms.

Four seconds remaining. Kotetsu had all his clothes on, but nothing buttoned: shirt open, vest hanging lose, tie wrapped around his neck like a scarf. Barnaby picked up the rappelling gear.

Three seconds remaining. Kotetsu knotted his tie once. Barnaby searched for an exit.

Two seconds. Kotetsu took his pack from Barnaby and stowed the monitor. The doorman had his hand on the front door, awaiting the husband’s entry code. Barnaby saw there were no exits.

One second. Kotetsu ignited in a flash of blue NEXT power.

“Run, Bunny!” he shouted, grabbing Barnaby’s hand. Following his instinct, Barnaby activated his Hundred Power, too, and followed Kotetsu wherever he thought they could run to—a stairwell? The roof?

No. Directly out the enormous window.

Barnaby wanted to scream at Kotetsu to stop. They couldn’t go out the window—the glass, the fall, they’d die for sure—but he just held on tight, both to the bedsheets he still clung to and to his lover’s hand. As their timer reached zero, Kotetsu burst through the window in a shower of glass, Barnaby following behind him, the shards glancing off their supernaturally strengthened skin.

And then they started to fall. The air roared in Barnaby’s ears as his hair, his jacket, and the legs of his pants whipped back and forth, tearing through the wind as he accelerated, falling, tumbling, with the sheets behind him uncoiling like the tail of a blue shooting star. Still disoriented, Barnaby barely felt Kotetsu still clutching his own hand, twisting them closer to each other until Barnaby found himself staring at Kotetsu’s shining blue eyes. Kotetsu smiled just for an instant, then twisted their bodies together until he had both arms wrapped around Barnaby, cradling the back of his head, and then flipped their positions in the air, so that Kotetsu would be the one to hit the ground. Barnaby moved to mirror Kotetsu, covering his partner’s neck in turn and squeezing his eyes shut against the oncoming impact, placing all of his trust in Kotetsu’s plan.

They hit the street, hard, leaving a crater at least six inches deep. Barnaby felt the shock reverberate through his body, but with the durability of Hundred Power, he didn’t feel any injury, at least not with so much adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream. Panting, Barnaby opened his eyes and found his glasses had not quite been as lucky, with an enormous web of cracks splintering through both lenses. He lifted his head and stared down at Kotetsu through his fractured vision. Kotetsu might as well be made of light to him.

With a cough and a small laugh, Kotetsu smoothed some of Barnaby’s curls back into place. He planted a small peck on Barnaby’s lips and mumbled, “Just in time.”

Kotetsu…

The sheets floated down on top of them, puffed full of air like a parachute or a tent. As it hung in the air, Barnaby’s own feeling swirled around like a kaleidoscope, the euphoria of surviving mixed with pleasure from their mad descent and love for this crazy, stupid thief in his arms.

“I love you, Bunny,” Kotetsu added, clutching Barnaby a little tighter. But the sheets deflated and finally touched the ground, and the spell broke.

“That was the dumbest plan you have ever come up with,” Barnaby snapped. He wriggled out of Kotetsu’s embrace and rolled away, taking most of the sheets with him. Frustrated and clawing at the fabric for some sort of opening, Barnaby continued, “You realize there were easily a dozen rooftops we could have landed on, and you chose instead for us to plummet to our deaths?”

“It’s not a plummet to our deaths if we didn’t die!” Kotetsu insisted. “And how many times have I put you in real danger, apart from this one?”

“Try every single heist we’ve pulled!” Barnaby retorted. “The Bronze Scrolls, the Alpine ski conference, the Hero Hall of Fame, the Rosa pearls—”

“We weren’t in danger with the Rosa pearls!” Kotetsu claimed. “Those lasers weren’t strong enough to cause, like, real burns—”

“Just forget it,” Barnaby finally freed himself from the sheets, stood, and started to walk away from his and Kotetsu’s crater. “We meant to leave the apartment as if we had never been there, and instead, you broke a whole window. I'll never forget how you ruined our half-anniversary.”

“But Bunny—”

"And you owe me a new pair of glasses,” Barnaby refused to look back at his partner, instead opening his backpack and pulling out the sheets with the wine. Two bottles had shattered, leaking dark red stains onto the bedsheet, so Barnaby paused at a street corner trash can and threw out the fabric along with the busted glass. The remaining bottle had survived the fall, so Barnaby uncorked it and took a swig as the light changed in his favor and he crossed the street.

Kotetsu’s plan had probably been the best one, under the circumstances. They would have been discovered in another second, and who knew what security measures that Gold Stage apartment would activate once someone reported a break-in? Lockdown? Hotline to the police? Even as the most dangerous way out, Kotetsu’s dash through the window had spared them an encounter with the police, and possibly given them enough time to find a new hiding spot. With no eyewitnesses or video evidence, the cops wouldn’t be able to track Kotetsu and Barnaby until they processed the DNA evidence on the mattress, which would take at least two days. Plus, Barnaby did like this wine. He felt at least a little grateful that Kotetsu had thought to save it.

But that didn’t mean he’d let Kotetsu off the hook. He expected a very thorough apology before he’d even dare complement his partner on such a brilliant-idiot escape. Besides, he’d make it worth Kotetsu’s while in return. No matter how stupid or dangerous their heists, Barnaby loved this life—and his partner—far too much to ever really walk away.


End file.
